“Yes, it does.” She stood before me, her hands on her hips, a frown on her pouty lips. “It’s supposed to be fun for you, me and Preston, not . . . icky make-out time with you and some skank you want to grope.”
“Nice talk, Soph.” I rolled my eyes. “Faith isn’t a skank. And it wouldn’t be like that. I promise.”
“Sure.” She leaned her elbows on the bar, ducking her head. A strand of her dark hair had come free from the band holding it away from her face, and it fell over her eyes. “Whatever you say.”
The bell over the door rang, and a couple strolled inside. Sophia pushed off the counter and headed over to wait on them without another word to me. I wasn’t a rocket scientist, but I sensed she was unhappy with me. I wasn’t certain why, though. I thought that Sophia would be psyched to have another girl to balance out our group.
Although I’d never say it out loud, chicks were a mystery I was pretty sure I’d never solve.
Still, I tried to be smarter than the average bear. Teachable, at least. So when Sophia finally deigned to come back to my end of the bar, I tactfully changed the subject.
“Have you talked to Preston lately? He’s been working so much that I haven’t seen him all week.”
Sophia shrugged. “I stopped at the juice bar on the way to yoga the other day. But they were hopping in there, so we didn’t get much chance to chat.” She hesitated. “He did, however, tell me that he had his eye on a yee.”
“No way.” I sat up straighter. “He hasn’t said anything to me.”
“I think this is fairly recent.” She reached for a towel to wipe off the counter, though as far as I could tell, the Formica was spotless. “So, how is the writing going? I saw the introduction Vivian posted this week. You go live on Friday?”
I nodded. “Turned in my first one on Tuesday. I didn’t have much to say, so it’s just a general commentary on what dating is like for a guy in the early twenty-first century.” I grinned wryly. “You know, real hard-hitting stuff. I’m expecting the call fromThe New York Timesany day now.”
“But you’re not looking to hook a journalist gig, right?” Sophia argued. “You want to write fiction. This column has the potential to get you some visibility so that when you do write your masterpiece, you already have a platform. You’ll have an audience.”
“Yeah, exactly.” I nodded, and then frowning, I cocked my head. “Hey, I thought you were against me doing this. When Vivian was here, I felt like you were saying I didn’t have the talent to handle writing the column.”
“That was never it.” Sophia pointed at me, her expression serious. “I never doubted your ability to write it. I just . . .” Her voice trailed off. “I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea for you to go looking for girls to date. I thought you and Preston were supposed to be focused on other stuff. Preston wants to get a sponsorship for his climbing, so he can get into some competitions. And you want to write your novel. Women—relationships—could be distractions.”
“Yeah, I know we used to say that, but maybe it’s time to rethink the idea.” I stared down at the bar between us. “We’re adults now, Soph. We’re supposed to be able to handle multiple focus points. Lots of people have successful careers and relationships, too. It’s not like when we were still in college, and everyone told us we needed to concentrate on our education instead of hooking up.”
“Are we adults?” Sophia rested her elbow on the ledge in front of her. “It’s only been five months since we graduated. I don’t feel any different than I did a year ago, except that I get up to go to work instead of going to class.” Her bottom lip pouted out adorably, and suddenly I remembered Faith and how weird her face had looked when she’d been nibbling her lip. Sophia didn’t have that problem. She was naturally expressive, and she didn’t play games the way other women did.
With more than a little discomfort, I tried to put that thought out of my mind. Faith was great. I liked her. If it seemed like she was a little more assertive, a little flirtier than someone like Sophia was . . . well, I should be flattered, right? She was trying to get my attention.
“Ah.” I cleared my throat and glanced away from Sophia’s face so I didn’t have to notice how cute she looked. “Have you picked up any photography jobs lately? Weren’t you supposed to shoot a wedding last weekend?”
She grimaced. “I did. And it paid okay. But I remembered why I hate doing event photography. No one’s ever one hundred percent happy with the pictures, and it’s not because of my work. It’s because they have unrealistic expectations of both themselves and me. I can shoot a bride in the best light, in the best pose possible, with the perfect filters, but it’s not going to make her look thirty pounds skinnier or take away the size of her nose. I hate that kind of atmosphere, you know?”
“Yeah, I get that. But I guess sometimes we have to do the shit that pays the bills, right?”
“Maybe.” Sophia stretched her back, rolling her shoulders. I knew that the long hours on her feet at the coffee shop made her backache sometimes.
“Hey, you need a shoulder rub?” I lifted my hands. “I’m here taking up space and drinking coffee on your discount. I might as well make myself useful.”
For a moment, she didn’t answer. Her eyes held mine, but I couldn’t discern the expression there.
Finally, she nodded. “Okay, if you don’t mind.”
“When have I ever minded? What are friends for?” I stood up and came around to meet her at the opening in the counter. “You give me plenty of shoulder massages.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Her voice was husky, and she cleared her throat as she turned her back to me. I swept the dark hair of her ponytail away from her neck, doing my level best not to notice the enticing curve there.
When my thumbs dug into the tight muscles of her shoulders, she began to relax, sighing. “Oh, that feels so good. Right . . . there.”
Her head bowed, her words barely audible on the slight moan. It was—I swallowed hard. It was almost erotic, and a disturbing response was churning inside me. My mind darted about in panic, searching for anything to talk about, anything that might make me stop thinking those thoughts.
“So!” I spoke louder than I’d intended, and Sophia startled a little under my hands. “Uh, the wedding gig wasn’t fun, but do you have anything else coming up?”
“Um . . .” She drew in a deep breath. “Actually, I picked up another job at the wedding, so it wasn’t a total bust. One of the bridesmaids hired me to shoot some promotional photos for her new business.”
